


My Bucky

by cleo4u2, xantissa



Series: Feral Steve [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha!Steve, Assault, Blow Jobs, Bond Mark, Fingering, Hand Jobs, Knotting, M/M, Magical Healing Ass, Mating, Medical Kink, Omega!Bucky, Scent Marking, Soul Bond, a/b/o dynamics, dub con, happy endings, mentions of mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 10:53:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15241815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleo4u2/pseuds/cleo4u2, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xantissa/pseuds/xantissa
Summary: Bucky finds a feral Alpha in the woods. Rather, the Alpha finds him. Bucky is sure it’s the end of his life as an independant Omega. It turns out to be the beginning of the strangest romance Bucky’s ever known.





	My Bucky

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [[翻译]My Bucky](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17906258) by [juliaindream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/juliaindream/pseuds/juliaindream)



> Huge thanks to our beta [NurseDarry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NurseDarry/profile) for the wonderful work! We love you! And to [Claudia_Flies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claudia_flies/pseuds/Claudia_flies) because she is the only reason this fic got finished at all!

Being a city boy, Bucky didn’t have a lot of experience with ferals. Sure, there were the few mixed in with the homeless population, but they were so dangerous and so _obvious_ , they got rounded up and sent to rehabilitation clinics pretty fast. Every Omega knew that feral’s were the greatest threat they could face. Worse than a normal Alpha in rut, they had lost - or never had - the ability to act like civilized people, running completely off their instincts, which generally consisted of fuck and fight. To label them merely dangerous was to grossly underestimate the threat they posed.

Of course, ferals weren’t very common these days. An increase in public awareness, funding, and improvement of child services had mostly eliminated the causes of Alphas becoming feral. It was, after all, a myth that Alphas went feral when they didn’t have an Omega to satisfy their ruts. That pervasive thought had forced more than one Omega to be bonded against their will. It was violence, as a child or adult, that twisted an Alpha’s mind. Oh, of course, there were diseases and poisons that could do it, block neural pathways and send them degenerating, but mostly it was abuse or war that created a feral. Not that the military liked to admit as much, because a feral Alpha retained his skills and that made them even more terrifying.

To be honest, Bucky hadn’t been thinking about ferals at all this particular morning. He was thinking about his work, his art, and the hours it had taken him to drive from New York to this nature preserve. His newest commission was set in a forest in Germany. While he was flattered the writer thought he could pull it off, he was more proficient with cityscapes and urban warfare. Those settings were his bread and butter, and more common in graphic novels than vast, naturescapes. He hadn’t been able to turn down the commission - he did well, but he wasn’t rich - and decided the only thing to do was see nature in its element. Central Park just wasn’t going to cut it. 

The forest was beautiful, if fucking far away. The number of shades in green and brown took him by surprise, and he was grateful he had brought his camera. He’d already hired an inker, but if he colored in the pages himself he made twice the money. After snapping a few shots, he’d headed up the trail, breathing the clean air and enjoying the shocking amount of noise around him. He’d always been told nature was quiet, but it wasn’t. Birds chirped and sang and croaked, bugs buzzed, and if he were being honest, screamed. Crashing came occasionally from a distance as animals moved about, or branches fell, but the sound of the road faded the further up the trail he went until he couldn’t hear it, or the families picnicking in the clearing by the parking lot, any longer. 

About two miles down the trail, Bucky found a gorgeous glade and pulled out his sketchbook. A rock made the perfect emergency seat and gave him a view of the shadowed forest, as well as the bright meadow. The contrast was so startling he knew he’d never remember it properly, and his camera wouldn’t do it justice. This was exactly why he had come, to capture nature as he didn’t know it, then take it home for reference.

He was halfway through his third sketch, when he realized the forest had grown oddly quiet. The sounds he’d been absently cataloguing in his mind disappeared. No distant animal movement, no birds, just the bugs. A prickle ran down his spine and Bucky had the horrid, sinking sensation of being watched. Before he even looked up, he knew if it _was_ a threat, no one was close enough to hear him scream.

At the edge of the forest, not five feet away, stood the feral. Six feet tall, filthy, unkempt, with eyes that shown in the dappled light making its way through the tree canopy, he stood unmoving next to a large, fir of some sort (Bucky didn’t know shit about trees). Carefully, Bucky sniffed the air, and shivered as he caught the scent of an Alpha. Yet, it was the man’s stillness that told him something was very wrong, more than the dirt and grime on his clothes and face. It was unnatural, unnerving, and Bucky nearly bolted right then and there.

Except, you never ran from an Alpha. That made you prey.

“Hello,” Bucky called, wishing his voice sounded more firm than it did. “Nice day, isn’t it?”

The Alpha didn’t answer, but lowered his chin, hiding his throat. Again the _flight_ part of his instincts crept up, but Bucky forced himself to stay still, to not respond to the challenge by keeping his own body open. Not welcoming - he didn’t bare his throat - but not aggressive, either.

“Did you need something?” Bucky tried again.

This time, when the Alpha didn’t answer, Bucky carefully started to climb to his feet. If he did need to run, or fight, sitting wasn’t going to do him any favors. Unfortunately, the Alpha took the movement badly. No sooner had Bucky shifted than he was moving, running impossibly fast, straight at Bucky. Bucky didn’t even have the time to finish climbing to his feet before the Alpha was on him, grabbing his shoulders, twisting him over a leg behind his own, and toppling him to the grass.

Terror clamped Bucky’s throat shut, cutting off his scream, his protest. He was fit, sure, but this feral Alpha had strength like Bucky’d never experienced. With a single hand he kept Bucky pinned to the grassy ground, his body hard as a rock, while the other pulled and tugged at his clothing, stripping it away and tossing it aside. The struggle he put up was laughingly dismissed, not even distracting the feral from his goal.

Part of Bucky couldn’t quite believe it was happening, even as the last of his clothes joined the others in the meadow. Naked, utterly vulnerable, he knew what was going to happen next. It was what every Omega feared, what stalked their every waking moments, and now it was going to happen to him. Raped. Forcefully mated. Another statistic. It wasn’t the first time he’d been threatened with it - more than a few Alphas had tried to have their way with him - but it was the first time he’d been so completely without recourse. This Alpha was too strong, too fast, muscles where Bucky hadn’t thought a man could have muscles, and he had Bucky pinned and naked where no one would be able to help him. 

Squeezing his eyes closed, Bucky struggled harder, but the Alpha _still_ didn’t seem to notice. He ducked his head, sniffing delicately for all his brutality, at Bucky’s throat. Then he _growled_ , the sound going through Bucky in a wave, turning his stomach to mush, and making his body respond in ways he had no control over. He wasn’t in heat, but he _was_ an Omega, his body and hormones ready to betray him whether he liked it or not. 

“Please,” Bucky choked out, but the Alpha continued to ignore him, sliding down, transferring the hold of Bucky’s wrists to his other hand, and pressed his cheek to Bucky’s belly. The scrape of his beard made Bucky shudder as it rubbed over his sensitive belly, back and forth, marking him with the Alpha’s scent. It was the first part of mating, the marking, telling any other Alpha out there that the Omega was owned, claimed, and would be fought over.

“P-Please,” Bucky tried again as the Alpha slid lower, ignoring his goosebumps and half-interested cock to shove Bucky’s legs apart with a single hand. The Alpha abruptly let go of his wrists and Bucky gasped, then tried to scramble away, but his attacker simply grabbed his hips, lifting them into the air above his head. Half off the ground, there was no leverage, and Bucky let out a choked sob as that scrape came first on his left inner thigh, then the right. The only response it earned him was more _growling_ , and his body squirmed with its instant arousal even as he hated it.

The sound didn’t stop as the Alpha’s hands began sliding up, over his hips, petting him as a tongue licked just behind his knee. Though Bucky tried to pull away, the Alpha just held onto him tighter, nipping lightly at his flesh, rumbling that sweet, arousing sound without end. It felt like it went on forever, the Alpha’s hands on him, his lips sucking little bruises onto the skin behind each knee. 

The fight had gone out of Bucky as his cock hardened completely, leaving only tears trickling down his face as the Alpha refused to let him go, but was so damn gentle. It could be worse, he reminded himself as his hips were lowered to the grass, and the Alpha crawled up his naked body. This would be it, the Alpha would mark his throat, and fuck him. His body was ready for it, the Alpha’s rumble stealing his agency away, but Bucky still didn’t want it, didn’t look at the bastard as his chin was tipped up and lips pressed to his pulse.

Another lick, another suck. Bucky shuddered, closing his eyes, and then was startled to find careful fingers brushing his cheek, through the tracks left by his tears. The growling changed, turned to purring, and Bucky felt his breath hitch. He’d never heard the calming sound in person before, never felt the effects of an Alpha’s purr. The Omega in him reacted as swiftly as it had to the Alpha’s growl, calming, his breathing evening out and his tears drying as his fear faded to nothing. The arousal clawing at his spine went with his fear, leaving him oddly calm as the Alpha nuzzled at his throat. 

Not fucking him. Not _raping_ him. 

It was… oddly nice, the warmth of the Alpha above him, the strong body pinning him down. Logically, he knew that was just the purring and his hormones coaxing him to accept what was happening - being an Omega wasn’t completely horrible; they responded much better to trauma - but he still liked it. He liked being protected and cared for.

Still, it was a shock when the feral climbed off him, lips brushing his forehead, and perched on the rock Bucky had used for sketching. Blue eyes - bright like Bucky hadn’t seen before - watched him intently, but he wasn’t moving. Then again, he hadn’t been moving to begin with. Yet this seemed different. Maybe it was the lack of threatening posture, or the concern Bucky must have been imagining in his pretty eyes. Whatever it was, it gave Bucky the confidence to sit up and reach for his clothing. He didn’t take his eyes from the feral as he climbed back into them, the fabric comforting no matter how easy it had been stripped off him. Even when he gathered up his discarded pencils, sketchbook, and camera, the Alpha didn’t budge, just watched, eyes alert and focused.

Surely, Bucky thought, he’d never make it to the trail again. Making a point not to run, he walked without turning his back to the feral to the trail. All his breath threatened to escape him as he placed his first foot in the dirt, then the next. Still his attacker remained perched upon the rock, eyes upon him, but not following, not making chase. 

Holding in a giddy laugh, Bucky made himself turn away as he continued along the trail. Now it would happen, if it would at all. The Alpha would chase him down, proving to merely be playing with his prey. What he had so recently escaped would occur, he would be ruined, bonded, to a feral monster. At any moment, any time…

The shadows deepened the further he got from the glade, the tree hiding the sun from his view. Every step Bucky took, he thought it would be the last. The tackle, or blow, never came. Step after step, he made his escape to his car, to people, to safety. At the sight of the trail head sign, Bucky broke into a run, another giddy laugh leaving him.

Halfway through the parking lot, Bucky froze again. There, leaning against his car’s trunk, was the Alpha. Bucky opened his mouth, made to scream, and the Alpha held up a sandwich. 

“Eat,” the feral demanded.

It’s certainly not what Bucky expected. Firstly he had no idea the Alpha could speak at all. Secondly, it wasn’t an attack. It was an attempt to care for him, to protect. Alpha instincts to be sure, but not the ones spoken of when ferals were discussed. Bucky was charmed, despite himself, despite his fear. 

“Eat,” the feral demanded again, impatient, insistent.

Hesitantly, Bucky stepped forward and took the offering. The Alpha purred, but nearby, Bucky heard something else: shouting, cries of alarm, and an Alpha’s growl. He reacted without much thinking. Yanking open the back door, he shoved the feral inside. It wasn't like the Alpha had hurt him, he had tried to protect him, let him go, and apparently thought he was too skinny. It was the kind of thing he’d fantasized about, but had never had. 

The feral went easily, tucking his huge frame into the backseat with a curious look. Bucky leapt into the front and turned the key in the ignition. Peeling out of the parking lot, he made for the highway, then headed toward the city. In his rear view mirror, he could see people running from the picnic area, chasing after them, but they weren't getting into their vehicles, so he thought they’d be safe.

“You stole this?” Bucky found himself demanding. If the feral could speak, he would surely understand the question.

 

The feral shrugged, something Bucky felt as he was crowded so close to the front seat they were touching.

 

“Need food. Got food.” The sandwich was lifted from the passenger seat and pushed under Bucky’s nose. “Eat.”

 

Bucky sighed and rubbed his eyes, wondering what the hell he’d gotten himself into.

 

“Eat.”

 

Steve purred again when he took a bite. It was ham on rye, with a bunch of fixings Bucky hadn't even known he’d liked. Surprised, he took another and felt the Alpha’s hands reach around the back seat, touching his shoulders. At first he tensed, but the contact was gentle, rubbing up and down, then focusing on his muscles and digging in. Massaging him. Bucky had been pretty sure ferals couldn’t reason as well as this one could.

“What’s your name?” he asked between bites.

“Steve,” the feral answered, short and sweet, like everything else he’d said.

“I’m Bucky.” 

Bucky didn't know why he offered it, but he had. Besides, _someone_ had to make sure the Alpha got some proper care. He didn't smell awful - just like dirt - but it was clear no one was looking out for him. Leaving him out there just wasn’t an option.

“Omega Bucky.” The feral sighed contently. “Mine.”

“Whoa, hey,” Bucky protested, “no way, buddy. I’m not anyone's.”

“Mine,” the Alpha repeated, a growl in his voice. The next thing Bucky knew, Steve was crawling into the front passenger seat, pulling up Bucky’s shirt, and rubbing his face all over his stomach. “Mine,” he growled again and Bucky swallowed hard.

“Yeah, okay, pal. Yours.”

That purr started up again, soothing nerves Bucky hadn't noticed had frayed. Steve kept his cheek pressed to Bucky’s stomach, curled on his back, his face blessedly _not_ pressed into Bucky’s crotch. It was… nice. Intimate and sweet, if weird as hell.

God, he was screwed. 

Steve stayed there the whole drive home, purring so soothingly Bucky was tempted to card his fingers through the Alpha’s hair. The urge was infuriating, but Bucky could resist it because Steve's hair was so filthy. Enough sweat and dirt had collected in it that he wasn't sure what the original shade had been. A light brown, or blond, he guessed. His skin was just as bad, but he surprisingly didn't smell like body odor. Just dirt, like he had been bathing regularly.

The first time they stopped at a light, Steve sat up. His eyes darted around them, even twisting to look out the window and stare up and up and up at the skyscrapers towering above them. It was cute, like watching a little kid on his first trip to the city, and Bucky had to remind himself that this was a dangerous, violent feral. They were only together because Bucky had lost his damn mind. And he didn't want to see Steve arrested. It wouldn't be Steve’s fault he was feral, and he deserved proper care. Maybe there was even family that were looking for him, who could take Steve off Bucky’s hands. Yeah, Bucky was just going to find Steve’s family and then this little saga of his life would be over.

\----

In the house, Bucky wasted no time in herding Steve toward the shower. His little apartment in Brooklyn was, well, little, and dirt was going to get everywhere if he didn’t take care of it immediately. Steve was surprisingly pliant the entire time. He followed Bucky around like a lost puppy, purring again as he pulled at Steve’s clothes, then tossed them aside. 

It was a struggle not to ogle the feral once he was naked. That overpowering strength was mirrored in his incredible muscles, bulging and shapely, making his shoulders broad yet leaving him with a slim waist. And his cock, Jesus; Bucky was going to _dream_ about that cock.

Which was fucked up since the Alpha was claiming him without his permission.

“In,” Bucky demanded once the water had warmed up. 

Steve smiled and stepped into the shower, then promptly pulled Bucky in with him, clothes and all. The smile on his lips was at complete odds with his strength. One was forceful and inescapable, the other sweet and happy. And he kept smiling as he took Bucky’s hands and pressed them to his chest.

“You want me to wash you?” Bucky blurted. It was what an Omega would do, tend to their Alpha, but…

That damned purr started up again and Bucky closed his eyes, reveling in the sound. It felt so _good_ , or it made him feel good. Like there was no trouble, or stress, in his life. There was - there were deadlines, and this damned Alpha - and they didn’t feel far away, or like they didn’t matter. They felt _surmountable_ , like he could do anything at all with his Alpha at his side.

Taking a breath, Bucky grabbed the washcloth and soap, and started cleaning the caked dirt and flecks of mud off Steve’s skin. The feral never stopped purring, nor did he try to get Bucky naked. He just submitted to Bucky’s touch, smiling happily, as Bucky got intimately acquainted with his well-defined muscles, his tapered torso; long, thick legs; and his impressive cock. It wasn’t an Alpha’s growl that had him hot under the collar as he finished up, it was that _body_. Steve was perfect.

Except for that whole feral thing.

Dropping the soap and washcloth in the tub, Bucky took up the shampoo and stepped into Steve’s space. Bathing him had been intimate, but it was another thing to stand chest to chest, thigh to thigh, with the Alpha. The only saving grace was the water drowning out the smell of his arousal and his wet, clingy clothing. 

Steve finally stopped just standing there purring, tilting his head to the side and wrapping his arms around Bucky’s waist. Holding them together, embracing him, and Bucky’s hands trembled. He _liked_ it, that strength and the Alpha’s protective arms about him. Any Omega would, but Bucky wished he was a little more than his designation.

“I need to wash your hair,” Bucky whispered.

Smiling even brighter, Steve nodded and pushed his head under the spray. The water ran black down his chest before he leaned forward and Bucky reached up to lather his hair. 

It took two rinses before Steve’s hair gleamed gold in the bathroom lights. Bucky had washed and rinsed all the dirt from him, and he was even more beautiful than Bucky had first noticed. The eyes didn’t help; blue as a clear day’s sky and crinkled at the corners with happiness. 

Bucky might be a little bit in trouble.

\----

Getting Steve out of the shower and dry turned out to be fairly simple. The Alpha certainly liked the attention Bucky was paying him, smiling and occasionally purring, until Bucky was the one standing soaking wet on the bathmat. Before he’d more-than-considered his problem - needing to change and dry off with a feral Alpha around - Steve was pulling at Bucky’s clothes. 

“Hey!” Bucky cried, trying to push Steve’s hands away, but the buff Alpha was having none of it. He wrestled with Bucky, pulling his clingy, cold shirt over his head. It landed with a _thwock_ in the tub, and Bucky shivered as air hit his already-chilled skin. Steve wasn’t done, though, snapping open Bucky’s jeans and yanking them off with his underwear. The rough cloth stung with how forceful Steve was, but Bucky was almost ready to give in and let him do what he wanted, since struggling didn’t do him any good anyway. Logically he knew that was due to Steve’s incessant purr, so he didn’t give in, trying to get away, no matter how hard he failed.

Or at least, that was the plan, until Steve grabbed a fresh towel and wrapped Bucky in it. He froze in surprise, staring up at the Alpha as he rubbed Bucky’s arms and hips, then stepped forward to add his arms to the burrito he’d turned Bucky into. 

“Um,” Bucky started, but he didn’t quite know what to say. 

Steve smiled, eyes crinkling, and nosed at Bucky’s cheek affectionately. Then he huffed in amusement - was he _laughing_ at Bucky? That _punk_ \- and bent over, hooking an arm beneath Bucky’s legs and sweeping him off his feet. Embarrassed and flustered, Bucky hooked his arms around Steve’s neck and stared as he was carried out of the bathroom to the master bedroom. 

The Alpha was feral, his mind gone, but he appeared to be going out of his way to make Bucky comfortable. He laid Bucky in the middle of the bed, then proceeded to curl up behind him and pull the blankets and sheets over them both. The towel went last, pulled from about Bucky and laid over the top of them, another heavy layer. Bucky thought Steve would have raided the entire linen closet if he’d known it was there, and it left Bucky at once embarrassed and flattered. No one had ever built him a nest before, not that there were many Alpha’s he’d let in his bed.

Come to think of it, he hadn’t _let_ Steve in. Steve just didn’t seem to know what ‘no’ meant.

The big Alpha curled about Bucky’s back, snuffling at his nape. He was holding Bucky loosely, but Bucky didn’t imagine he’d let him get up. He wasn’t doing anything else, though. Just lying there, holding him and nothing more. They were naked, but Steve wasn’t trying to force sex. He seemed to be forcing… sleep.

With that realization, Bucky swallowed hard. Was he really going to sleep like this? On the one hand, the nest felt wonderful. He was surrounded in soft linens and in the arms of a powerful Alpha. Living alone in the city, he’d always had a vague fear of someone breaking in, but now he wasn’t. Steve would likely kill anyone who threatened him. He was safe here, in the Alpha’s arms, which was almost a contradiction. 

“Good night, Steve,” Bucky whispered.

“Mine,” Steve huffed against his neck.

Bucky snorted a laugh. The Alpha had a one track mind.

\----

Bucky was in that state of mind where he wasn’t quite asleep, could hear what was going on around him, but his body wasn’t yet responding to his commands. The feeling was warm and languorous, his body sinking heavily into the bed. It felt good to wake up this slowly, to feel the soft sheets against his cheek, feel the slow grinding of Steve’s cock against his ass, the warmth of the covers over him, and the quiet of pre-dawn morning filling the room. 

Wait.

The thick slide of Steve’s cock up his crack registered fully, and Bucky shot across the bed. Well, he shot as far as the thick tangle of blankets, sheets, and towels allowed. Then he realized he was naked, his cock hard from the amorous attentions, and he scrambled for something to cover himself.

“Omega?” Steve rumbled, his hair sleep mussed and adorably confused. Why did he have to be so damned cute? And hot, let’s not forget the hot part.

Flustered by his body’s reaction, Bucky opened his mouth to say something, anything, and couldn’t think of a damn thing. He’d liked that obvious attention, the clear fact that Steve found him attractive. He’d liked the thick feel of him between his legs and couldn’t ignore the curiosity of what it would feel like inside him. 

That amused huff left Steve again and he leaned forward, wrapped his fingers around Bucky’s upper arm, and pulled him back toward the center of the bed. Flushing, Bucky didn’t resist, though he thought he should. This was a _feral_ Alpha. He was an unbonded Omega. He couldn’t… _They_ couldn’t…

A mean voice whispered, _Then why haven’t you turned him over to the police?_

Bucky couldn’t answer that, but in his defense his brain stopped working a few moments later. Steve pulled him back into the nest, leaned over him, and kissed his nose. Blinking, Bucky was utterly disarmed for the moments Steve needed to crawl down his torso. With his face hovering above Bucky’s cock, Steve glanced up at Bucky, and paused as if waiting for something. Bucky didn’t know what that something was, but tried to find his voice, to tell Steve to stop…

Only he didn’t really want that. Bucky hadn’t been with a partner in years, he’d never been with an Alpha, and his body _wanted_. Maybe it was because Steve was so damn good looking, or maybe it was because he’d actually stopped in that clearing the day before. Maybe it was the nest, or that Steve wanted him. Whatever it was, Bucky didn’t breathe a word, and Steve broke his gaze, leaned down, and licked his cock from root to tip.

Bucky gasped, shuddering as pleasure rocketed through his groin. Heat began to pull in his belly as Steve didn’t stop licking. He lapped over the tip, beneath Bucky’s frenulum, down to the root and back up. He was messy about it, licking with his flat of his tongue, drooling freely and not even bothering with trying to look cool. Soft growls and groans left him regularly, making it clear he was enjoying himself without saying a single word. 

Bucky clenched his hands in the blankets, pleasure winding up and up, cheeks heating up and heartbeat rocketing. God, but Steve was hot like this; hot and sexy and so into it. Bucky found it was impossible to hold onto his misgivings. Instead, Bucky gave in. He let himself moan, let his pleasure be heard, and allowed himself to be swept away with sensation.

It didn’t take long. Bucky would have been embarrassed with how quick he was if Steve hadn’t been feral and unable to judge him. Just as Steve finally wrapped his lips around Bucky’s tip and sucked, he shouted, pulled hard at the sheets, and came. Steve swallowed every drop, his eyes half-closed as if he was being given some treat. 

Yeah, Bucky was in more-than-a-little trouble. His heart skipped a beat at that level of adoration, and he knew he wouldn’t be looking for someone to take Steve off his hands. Steve was his. For all the dangers he presented, he was better behaved than most Alphas. Alphas who didn’t have the excuse of being feral.

Floating on the bliss of his orgasm, Bucky watched Steve pull off his dick with a pop and climb back over him. He stared at Steve’s chest, the pecs thick and round, and it took him several, long moments to realize Steve’s breath had picked up and his pec was bouncing because he had a hand between his legs to jerk off.

“Oh,” Bucky breathed, his eyes widening as he looked down, following that buff bicep between Steve’s legs. His cock was hard, bigger than ever, and Bucky had to choke back a moan. It would feel _incredible_ inside him, moving within him, but Steve wasn’t forcing him. He was taking care of himself, staring down at Bucky because it was _Bucky_ that was getting him off. 

Biting his lip, Bucky hesitated, then spread his legs. He lifted his hands above his head, stretching his body out, _presenting_ himself to the Alpha. Instantly Steve’s eyes dilated, the last of the beautiful blue vanishing. Then he grunted, groaned, and came across Bucky’s groin, hips, with a few drops pulsing up to his stomach.

Bucky’s heart raced. _He’d_ done that. He’d made Steve come just by showing off his body. That realization kept him still as Steve came down from his own high, eyes slowly opening. He beamed at Bucky, then rolled onto his side. 

For a moment, Bucky thought they were done, and then Steve reached between his legs and began rubbing his come into Bucky’s skin. Bucky flushed, but held still, staring at his Alpha as he was marked with his scent in a way no one would miss. As all Omegas, Bucky was hairless between his legs, and nothing kept Steve’s come from his skin. Nothing kept his hands from massaging his balls, his hips, his stomach, ensuring the scent would last through a wash or two.

Bucky knew he shouldn’t let him. People would _know_. He had a meeting today with his editor, one of the few times he had to actually go into the office, and they’d all know he’d found an Alpha. They’d all know he was _sleeping_ with said Alpha.

Smiling at him, Steve kissed Bucky on his nose again. Bucky blushed, but thought viciously, who cared what anyone else thought? It was none of their damn business.

\----

Getting Steve out of bed, back into the shower, and then into the kitchen for breakfast proved challenging. Steve appeared to want nothing more than to wrap himself around Bucky and never move again. Bucky not only had work to do, he was _hungry_. It was that that motivated Steve at last, and Bucky had used that to get his feral Alpha from one room to the next. If nothing else, Steve was devoted to his well-being.

Now Bucky was dressed, fed, and had to leave. He was suddenly nervous. What if Steve left during the day? What if he encountered another Alpha? What if he found another Omega -

Bucky shook his head hard. It was sheer madness to be as attached to Steve as he’d grown over one day. 

A huge hand took Bucky’s and he looked up to find the Alpha in question watching him worriedly.

“Omega?” he asked, and Bucky melted a little. God, he was _so screwed._

“I need you to stay here, okay?” Bucky said, his voice cracking a little. “Stay inside, because if you leave…” Bucky trained off instead of finish with _I won’t be able to find you._ “Here, um, I’ll put on some T.V., huh? So you can have something to watch?”

Bucky pulled away, grabbed the remote and put it on one of the day-time television channels. He turned to explain how the remote worked, but Steve was _right there_. Bucky’s heart beat double-time, the fear of coming back to an empty apartment leaving a sour taste in his mouth. He didn't even want to imagine losing Steve that way.

Steve reached for him, cupped his cheek, and leaned down to press a soft, gentle kiss to his lips. “Steve stay,” he whispered, thumb brushing his cheek, and Bucky’s knees threatened to give out.

Impulsively, Bucky kissed Steve again, felt his Alpha’s lips curl beneath his own, and flushed to his roots. Without another word, he grabbed his portfolio - the sketches for his latest project - and fled. Bucky had never found an Alpha worth his time, and how he was falling for a damned feral.

\----

Bucky opened the door, throat tight with nerves. He had heard the TV from the corridor, but that didn’t mean Steve was still here. He had spent the whole time away worrying about Steve. What would he do if Steve left? There were so many ifs, so many possibilites. Time alone let him think about the state Steve was in. Alphas who went feral usually ended up skinny and malnourished, but Steve was in a perfect condition besides some dirt. There was no sign of malnutrition, no sign of untreated injuries. He must have been avoiding conflict, which seemed to be unusual for an Alpha of his size. While that was good, it also meant that if Steve did leave, he would be capable of taking care of himself and thus even harder to find.

As he turned from the entryway to the living room, Bucky explosively let the air out of his lungs as his shoulders sank down in relief.

Steve was here.

He was already bearing down on Bucky, arms outstretched. The relief was so strong Bucky didn't even protest as Steve wrapped his powerful arms around him and pressed his nose to Bucky’s neck, snuffling loudly.

“Smell bad,” Steve rumbled, and it was all the warning Bucky had before he started pulling at Bucky’s clothes. Even now Bucky didn't make even a token protest as Steve divested him of his jacket and shirt. More than that, he toed off his shoes as Steve got his hands on Bucky’s pants, opening them up and pushing them down his hips. The ‘bad smell’ couldn’t have been from there, because Bucky got a full whiff of Steve’s strong, Alpha scent the moment his clothes were down.

Naked at last, Bucky was abruptly aware that _Steve_ was still naked. The feral probably had no need for clothes, so he hadn’t sought any out. Now they were both naked and Steve was pushing him down, laying him out on the carpet, and rubbing his face all over Bucky’s neck and shoulders. This time, the marking wasn’t frightening. The scrape of Steve’s beard was erotic, possessive, and Bucky found his body heating up the longer it went on. 

This close, the scent of Steve’s skin was stronger, a pleasant thrill starting up in Bucky’s belly as he got a noseful of the scent. He was pliant under Steve’s hands, letting his Alpha do as he pleased, but wondering if he should stop. After this morning, it was clear where this was headed, and Bucky wasn’t so far gone he thought it was a good idea to bond with a _feral_ Alpha. 

And yet he didn’t stop Steve as he was rolled onto his belly. He didn’t protest the hands spreading his thighs, or even when that beard rubbed between his cheeks. Giving in sounded _nice_ , would feel amazing with that thick cock inside him, and his own cock had swelled at the thought. He’d never been knotted, but he could now. Steve could have him…

The fantasy’s vanished as Steve abruptly snarled. Bucky had no time to react, because a moment later Steve was scruffing him like they were in some old fifties movie. No one had ever scruffed him, not even his parents, and Bucky was alarmed at his body reacted to the pinching of his neck. He went completely limp, every muscle boneless, his body utterly helpless as Steve shoved his thighs further apart and let out that angry snarl a second time.

What was happening? Bucky thought, cursing his body’s betrayal. He hadn’t slept with anyone else, so Steve couldn’t smell another Alpha. Yet he was furious, angry, and his fingers were probing at Bucky’s hole. Another sniff at the tight, furl of muscle, and _another_ snarl.

Bucky’s heart slammed into his chest as fear returned again. Steve was so angry and he was _completely_ helpless. He couldn’t even scrabble at the carpet, couldn’t do anything but _lay_ there as the Alpha poked at his hole, then growled and pushed a finger inside him. 

It _hurt_. The digit sank in as Bucky’s body tried to fight it off, but Steve didn’t let go of his neck and he didn’t stop. He pushed in and in, until his finger brushed something that burned within him. Bucky gasped, confused because nothing should feel like _that_ , like fire burning up his insides. Steve was snarling again, a low, quiet anger as he started to rub. It hurt worse than ever and Bucky cried out, whimpering, but Steve didn’t relent this time. He didn’t relent as Bucky’s cry turned to tears, he kept _rubbing_ and rubbing, the pain mounting, until something went loose and the pain abruptly stopped. 

Bucky whimpered again. Something moved inside him, the burning turning to tingling, as it felt like something had torn away from his body. Torn away and now his slick gland tingled, pleasure at being rubbed - like it should have been all along - coming unwanted to his body. 

Even now Steve didn’t stop, he sniffed and snarled louder, but kept going. And then Bucky smelled it. A sick, sour odor: infection. Something was wrong with him. His slick glands hadn’t been producing because something had stopped them up, something Steve had scraped away. Now this one tingled. The others… Bucky couldn’t feel a thing and his fear grew for all new reasons.

What was wrong with him? Was he sick, or was it worse? Cancer?

Steve’s finger pushed deeper, finding the next slick gland and pain blossomed all over again. Bucky’s fear grew, but not of Steve. No, he was afraid of what was inside him, of what Steve had smelled. His instincts had been right all along; he had nothing to fear from the Alpha himself. Nothing except his inability to communicate.

The _thing_ inside him scraped free at last and Bucky let out a whimper of relief. At the sound, Steve abruptly moved. The hand pinching his neck let go and Steve’s face pressed against his own, cheek to cheek. Bucky sobbed in a breath, but stayed as he was, not trying to fight anymore. 

The echoes of pain were still rubbing his nerves raw, and Bucky was terrifyingly close to crying from the unexpected rush of emotion. Steve’s presence, his big, warm body so close to him, helped. The scent of the Alpha drowned out the disgusting scent emanating from his own body. His quiet growls helped Bucky’s heartbeat return to a more normal rate, his breathing slowed from panicked hitching. He blinked a few times to chase away the burning and swallowed.

“Steve...” Bucky wanted to ask what was happening, what Steve had smelled on him, but stopped himself. It was useless. Steve wouldn’t answer him. Not the way Bucky wanted him to, anyway. He couldn’t.

“Again,” Steve murmured, his tone sorrowful, and Bucky shuddered. He understood, though. There were three slick glands. They’d only cleaned out two.

“Okay,” Bucky whispered, and Steve kissed his cheek. Closing his eyes, Bucky waited a heartbeat, and Steve’s finger began to move again. It was easier now, slick coating his passage, if smelling like death. It didn’t stop the pain when Steve touched the third gland, though. Bucky scrabbled at the carpet now that he could, letting out a soft cry, eyes squeezing tight until at last whatever it was scraped clear again. 

Like before, Steve didn’t stop immediately. He kept rubbing, getting Bucky’s glands to flow, but this time he pulled his finger free when he was done. Bucky hadn’t opened his eyes, hadn’t moved, though he thought Steve would have let him up now. It was all just… so much. His body ached, but the way an infected wound did after it had been cleaned. That thought was just as terrifying, and there was nothing he could do about it now. Tomorrow. He’d see his doctor tomorrow, but tonight…

Strong hands rolled Bucky over and stronger arms lifted him up. Steve carried him into the bathroom and Bucky heard the tap turn on. He wasn’t looking, curled against Steve’s chest, his nose against the scent gland beneath his ear. 

There was something wrong with him, something _very_ wrong with him... but Steve was here. Steve held him close, waited for the water to heat up, and carefully cleaned him between his legs. The scent of sickness disappeared, and Bucky found himself relaxing just a little. Enough that he realized there was another change.

Whatever Steve had done had lessened the pain he hadn’t even been aware he’d been experiencing. It must have built up so slowly he’d not noticed it. Maybe he’d blamed it on his heat coming closer, but that scared the shit out of him. How long had it been? When did it start? He wanted to know, but at the same time he really _didn’t_ want to know.

He didn’t want to see a doctor. He wanted to stay in Steve’s arms where it was safe. And at least for the night, Steve let him. He carried Bucky out of the bathroom, into the living room. He hadn’t changed the channel on the television, but held Bucky as the shows played on and on. When his stomach rumbled, Steve carried him into the kitchen and took direction as Bucky wasn’t up to cooking himself. It turned out that Steve could make a mean grilled cheese, if Bucky told him what to do every step of the way. 

Later, when Bucky yawned in his lap, Steve stood without a word and carried him to the bedroom. Not that Steve had many words to say. Mostly ‘Omega’, which seemed to be his favorite.

“My name is Bucky,” Bucky whispered against Steve’s neck. Tonight the Alpha held him against his chest, nuzzling into his hair. At Bucky’s words he stilled, then tilted back to look down at him.

“Bucky.” His name in Steve’s rough voice seemed like something completely different, yet so right. “My Bucky?”

For once, Bucky didn’t fight it. 

“Yeah. Your Bucky.”

For better or worse, Bucky couldn’t imagine his life without Steve in it now.

\----

The next morning, Bucky got an emergency appointment with his doctor and didn’t even try drawing anything. He again spent his hours in Steve’s arms, in his lap, safe and protected when it was his body that was betraying him. At least Steve didn’t seem to mind. His only reaction had been to sniff at Bucky’s hole that morning, huff, and then hustle him into the shower for a thorough cleaning. 

Bucky wished that was all it would take.

When it came time to leave, Bucky almost took Steve with him. If Steve hadn’t been feral, he would have, but he was going to see an Alpha - because most doctors were Alphas - and he didn’t think Steve would react well to another Alpha poking around downstairs. Before he left, though, he got another promise.

“Steve stay?” 

Steve, who had been following him closely the second he’d stood up to get ready, nodded seriously.

“Steve stay. My Bucky.”

Bucky held onto those four words as he took the train to the doctor’s office, sat in the waiting room, and tried not to panic. He held onto those words as they weighed him, took his blood pressure, and he waited for the doctor to show up in that scratchy, backless gown that was as good for covering his modesty as being naked.

“Hello, Mr. Barnes,” the Alpha doctor said cheerfully as he entered. Bucky kicked his feet on the bed, trying to hide how nervous he was. “So you think you have an infection?”

Swallowing his nerves, Bucky nodded and tried to explain what had happened.

“My Alpha smelled something wrong… inside me… and when he… he used his finger on the slick glands... it smelled like infection. And it hurt. A lot.”

The Alpha didn’t even bat his eye as Bucky admitted he’d _allowed_ the fingering despite the pain. Damned Alphas. 

“Okay, well, I’m going to take a look and we’ll see what’s going on, alright?” Bucky nodded and followed instructions as the Alpha doctor had him lie back, put his feet in stirrups, then rolled the gown up, over his thighs. He stared at the tiled ceiling and his heart hammered as the Alpha poked at his hole. 

“This will be cold,” the Alpha warned and something slick and freezing pushed past his rim. Bucky shuddered, closing his eyes only to snap them open again to watch the ceiling. It was bland and awful, covered in dots, and was not nearly enough to keep him from feeling every movement of the thing inside him.

“Okay, I’m going to take a sample now, this might pinch…”

‘It’ pinched and left behind a dull ache, but the thing withdrew and the doctor sat up. Bucky quickly rolled his gown back down and closed his thighs, as if the Alpha hadn’t been all up inside him.

“Okay, well, I think you have a gland infection, Mr. Barnes.” The doctor labeled the sample of whatever he’d taken and set it in a tray. “It’s pretty common for Omegas on suppressants who aren’t sexually active. Unfortunately, we’re going to have to take you off the suppressants.” Bucky’s stomach plummeted. His heats would come back? “I’m going to get this looked at by the lab to be sure, but you’ll probably just need some anti-inflammatories and antibiotics. You _are_ going to have to get those glands stimulated every day, though, at least until the infection is gone. What you experienced was the glands atrophying, and that will continue if you don’t give them a workout.”

Bucky swallowed hard, trying not to panic. He had a feral Alpha at home and he was supposed to stop taking suppressants? 

“What if I… don’t stop taking the suppressants?”

The doctor frowned at him like he thought Bucky was stupid.

“Then this infection will come back, Mr. Barnes. It’s not serious now, but complications from an infection like this can be severe.”

“Worst case scenario?” Bucky asked, because it might be better than going through heat.

“Organ failure.” Nope, worse. “And we’ll have to remove your slick glands. I hate to say it, but few Omegas ever fully recover from that kind of invasive surgery. Your bodies aren’t meant to go through heat without slick.”

Bucky swallowed hard and closed his eyes.

“Okay,” he whispered. 

“Your next heat should take at least a month to come back, but I’d start making preparations soon. And alert your Alpha. As for stimulation, if your Alpha can’t handle it, find a toy with a lot of ridges.”

“Won’t I be… fertile now?” Bucky asked, though he knew the answer.

The doctor gave him that ‘you’re so dumb’ look again and Bucky vowed to find a new doctor.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes. Without the suppressants you’ll be fertile.”

“Can I, um, have some birth control, then?”

The doctor blinked, then nodded, and Bucky thought, _Who’s the stupid one now?_

“Sure, that won’t be a problem. Do you have any other questions?”

“No,” Bucky said, though he really didn’t know if he should have more questions. “Thank you, doctor.”

“Of course. The nurse will be by with your prescriptions.”

Bucky nodded and watched the Alpha leave, trying not to panic. He tugged at the gown, then realized he could probably change out of it now. Sliding off the bed, he numbly got dressed, and wondered what he would do now. He’d have to change apartments; his wasn’t airtight like an Omega needed when in heat. 

He didn’t want to move. He liked his apartment. He liked the lighting. He liked not going into heat, not dealing with the overwhelming hormones and the drive to be fucked to within an inch of his life. He liked not ending up so badly dehydrated his mouth was full of cotton. 

And Steve… what was Steve going to do when he smelled Bucky’s heat? 

Bucky shook the thought off, too overwhelmed to deal with a man who couldn’t even understand what had happened. No, he would get his prescriptions, stop by a sex store, and think about this tomorrow. He deserved that, deserved a night without consequences.

The trip home was a blur. He was so busy not thinking about what had happened that he operated on autopilot. Somehow, he ended up home with his bag of pills and a thick dildo that bulged out every few inches in a black bag of its own. He’d taken only a few steps when Steve was _there_ , cradling Bucky’s face, then pulling him into his arms. 

To Bucky’s shock, that’s all it took to shatter the last of his resolve. He sobbed against Steve’s chest, clung to his biceps, and didn’t resist as he was scooped up and deposited on the bed. A bed piled even higher with blankets and sheets - meaning Steve had at last found the linen closet - so it wasn’t a _bed_ , but a nest. It was their nest, where Bucky was safe because his Alpha would never let anything hurt him. Even when he couldn’t understand what was wrong, Steve was taking care of him. 

When the tears dried, Bucky found himself saying, “No one ever made me a nest before.”

Steve huffed, rolling his eyes and squeezing Bucky to his chest.

“My Bucky.”

“Yes,” Bucky agreed tiredly, “that is a good point.”

He closed his eyes and took a long inhale, filling his lungs with Steve’s scent, relishing how it calmed him. 

“I don't know how much of this you’ll understand, but you were right. I had a bad reaction to my suppressants. Now I need to come off them and stimulate my glands, and the doctor was an asshole, and he gave me all this stuff I hate, and I just hate this whole thing!”

Steve, unsurprisingly, didn’t say anything. Not that he didn’t react, he tilted Bucky’s chin up, brushing his thumbs over his cheeks to steal the moisture. Then he kissed Bucky’s nose, his eyes, and his lips, lingering there as Bucky’s breath hitched in his chest. 

Then he _did_ speak, and Bucky almost started crying again.

“Steve stay.”

“Please,” Bucky whispered. “I don’t… I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here with me. My family lives so far away. And I’m so alone -”

Steve shook his head and interrupted Bucky with a kiss.

“My Bucky.”

“Yeah,” Bucky hiccuped a laugh, “I’m alone except for you.”

“My Bucky,” Steve said again.

Bucky laughed again. Yeah, okay this guy was at least very firm about just who Bucky belonged to. It should have felt overbearing and uncomfortable. Instead it felt good. Bucky wasn't alone. He had somebody to hold him and dry his tears. As corny as that sounded, it meant the world to him. Steve would stay.

And, Bucky thought, he wouldn’t need that dildo he’d bought. Not when he had Steve. Feral or not, he was devoted, caring, and loving. Bucky couldn’t ask for anything more. 

Well, better conversation would be nice, but Bucky wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Bucky stay,” Bucky whispered and Steve’s smile split his whole face. He kissed Bucky again, happiness pouring off him in waves, and pushed Bucky back into the nest. He yanked the blankets around them, building the walls higher, locking out the world and locking in their scents. The terror and fear of the day faded away as Steve kissed along his neck, rubbing as he went so his scent was all over Bucky once more. 

“Hey,” Bucky murmured as Steve finished marking his stomach. Instantly his Alpha looked up, curiosity etched into his perfect features. “Did you… understand when I said I had to have my glands stimulated?” 

Steve tilted his head, crawling up Bucky and staring at him. Bucky took at that as a ‘no.’

“My, um, my slick glands? They need… maintenance.” Steve’s fingers dove between his legs, pressing against his hole, and Bucky gasped. “Y-yeah, there. L-like last night.” 

Steve was taking deep lungfuls of his scent. Bucky wished he knew what he smelled like, what his scent was telling Steve. Whatever it was, it had Steve growling softly, the sound instantly going to Bucky’s cock. Now that he wasn’t fighting it, his pulse skyrocketed, heat pooling in his stomach, and his glands tingling as they began producing slick again after a long time. Bucky tried to ignore that, since he shouldn’t have felt anything at all, and found it was easy when Steve’s eyes dilated and his growl didn’t stop.

“Steve,” Bucky whispered, but then Steve’s finger was pushing inside him and he blurted, “Alpha.”

Steve’s eyes turned black and his finger slipped deeper. It didn’t hurt the way it had yesterday, the slick was starting to flow as Steve worked his way in. Bucky couldn't believe he hadn’t figured out that something was wrong with him earlier. He should have noticed he wasn’t getting wet when he was aroused. Now he was, dripping around Steve’s finger when he pulled it free, then pushed back in with two. The smell was a little sour, but Bucky could hardly pay attention to that because _this time_ it felt incredible when Steve rubbed at his glands. It felt like it should, pleasure shooting up his spine, increasing as two fingers allowed Steve to rub against two at once.

“Mine,” Steve said as he kept growling and Bucky could do nothing more than nod, spread his thighs wider, and offer himself to the Alpha. He was panting, holding onto Steve’s shoulders, his cock throbbing as Steve kept rubbing him. He spread his legs even more, to give Steve better access, and was rewarded with a louder growl.

“It’s good, Steve,” Bucky praised, not entirely coherent as he let the sensations wash over him again and again. For once, he didn’t feel any regret. He felt amazing, cocooned and safe, cherished as Steve added yet a third finger and thrust faster. He was trying to get Bucky to come, doing far more than just stimulating his slick glands, but Bucky didn’t mind. He couldn’t mind. 

Steve played his body like a fiddle, bringing him up and up, then wrapping a hand around his cock. That touch was like lightning. Bucky’s body arched off the bed, and Steve thrust his fingers into him harder, faster as Bucky shouted. His nails dug into Steve’s skin and everything turned white as he climaxed. Black spots pulsed in the whiteness as his cock spurted come all over. His slick glands throbbed in time with his heartbeat, and Bucky moaned, tossing his head as his vision slowly came back.

Above him, Steve hovered, eyes searching his face. When Bucky made eye contact, he smiled, kissed Bucky’s nose, and then took his hand. Bucky blinked, then flushed because Steve guided that hand between his legs, wrapping Bucky’s fingers around his cock. 

“Oh,” he whispered. He knew Steve was big, but feeling him in hand was another matter. It was long and veined, the skin lying deflated where his knot would form. Bucky tried to ignore it, but he couldn’t help but imagine it growing inside him, stretching him impossibly wide, rubbing against all of his slick glands at once. Everything he’d read and heard said it was the most incredible feeling.

Steve’s hand squeezed his, then started moving up and down. Bucky flushed, having been so lost in his fantasy and the after-affects of his orgasm, he’d just held on to Steve’s cock. Now he moved, though, reaching down with both hands so cover more of it. He twisted as he stroked and Steve moaned, head falling back. His eyes didn’t close, though, they watched Bucky intently, occasionally flicking down his body.

Bucky looked at Steve in kind. He couldn’t believe just how hot Steve was. Between those bright eyes, a jawline that could shatter granine, and the body of an Adonis, Bucky was hard-pressed to keep his eyes on one thing. An Alpha like that could do so much better than him, someone more feminine, dainty, but Steve wanted _him_. Stared at him as Bucky jerked him off, licking his lips like he wanted to taste Bucky. And he probably did. Alphas all had a thing about biting, yet Steve didn’t, held himself back, because Bucky wasn’t ready.

“You’re incredible,” Bucky whispered. Grunting, Steve pushed his hips into Bucky’s hand and Bucky threw all caution to the wind. “You can touch me. Do you want to touch me?”

Without a second’s hesitation, Steve’s hands were on Bucky. One circled his throat, making Bucky’s eyes flutter back in his head as he moaned. It was so possessive, so _Alpha_ , his hands stuttered their up and down movements. Steve’s other hand wandered, running over Bucky’s chest, pinching his nipples until they were hard and swollen, and Bucky writhed with the pleasure. Then Steve’s hands went lower, cupping and squeezing his soft cock, rolling his balls in his hand, and teasing his rim. It was still wet with slick and, when Bucky spread his legs, took a single finger easily.

The thick cock in Bucky’s hands throbbed, the loose skin swelled, and Steve came. Steve came from fingering Bucky, and Bucky felt pride swell in his chest as he milked Steve’s cock. The come splattered all over him, but Bucky allowed himself to focus on Steve’s knot this time. The thick bulge puffed out to three times Steve’s girth and Bucky swallowed, wondering how his body could ever handle something so thick. 

Though his eyes were closed, Steve ran his hands through his come, rubbing it into Bucky’s skin. Bucky shivered, but gave himself the same permission he’d given Steve. He let his hands run over Steve’s cock, cupping the knot, and squeezing. It gave a little, but was hard. He explored the bulge with his fingers, marveling at how soft the skin skin felt stretched over something so large. He flattened his palm against it, pressing gently, hoping it felt good for Steve, while refusing to feel guilty or scared about it. He luxuriated in the sensations, taking in the experience, and wondered why he had resisted this so much.

With a rumble of pleasure, Steve rolled Bucky onto his side and curled up at his back. Bucky sighed, closing his eyes, letting his Alpha hold him. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so relaxed.

\----

Over the next few weeks, they fell into a routine. Bucky would wake with Steve wrapped around him and his Alpha rutting against his ass. When he pushed back against him, Steve would nuzzle his neck and whisper, “Maintenance?” Bucky never said no.

 

Afterwards, they’d shower, Bucky would cook, and then he’d work on his art. Throughout the day, Steve scented him. Before he touched Bucky, he would take in deep lungfuls of Bucky’s scent. After the first few times, it became a reassuring gesture. It was as if just his scent could tell Steve what Bucky felt, if he was nervous, or in pain. He loved that care, and how Steve made an effort to make Bucky feel good and safe. Steve was proving to be the best partner Bucky could have imagined, and all that while still mostly feral.

It became a familiar thing to be flattened under Steve’s bulk, or swept into his arms. The few times he went out for groceries, or just for a walk, or to see his editor, he was always looking forward to the moment he’d come home and Steve would pin him down and cover the outside world’s scents with his own. 

Everything wasn’t all hearts and flowers, of course. Packing up and moving with a feral in tow was a unique challenge. Bucky had come back into the bedroom to find Steve curled up on the bare mattress, crying, and his heart had broken though he didn’t know what was wrong. Asking had only made Steve cry harder, muttering brokenly, “Steve stay.”

It wasn’t until Steve had covered his face and shouted, “Bucky no stay!” that he’d understood. Steve had taken Bucky packing the nest as its destruction. A dismantling that would only happen if Bucky had been leaving his Alpha. He’d had to unpack the multitude of sheets and blankets, let Steve rebuild the damned nest right then and there, despite movers coming within the hour. It had made Steve smile, though, hold him close, and repeat, “Bucky stay,” every few minutes. 

When Steve refused to let anyone else carry the nest to the truck, Bucky had almost lost it himself. His Alpha was _ridiculous,_ and Bucky was falling completely in love with him. 

Their new apartment wasn’t as comfortable, if only because the windows were smaller and they couldn’t be opened, but it was scent filtered. No one would smell Bucky’s heat once it began, so he wouldn’t have to worry about Alphas breaking down his door. And he wouldn’t have to worry about Steve killing any Alpha that tried to get to him.

Mostly, Bucky wasn’t thinking about when his heat would start. It would come when it did and they’d… deal with it. Bucky wasn’t leaving Steve, and so far Steve hadn’t tried to leave the apartment. Bucky still worried, especially when he had to leave for work meetings. 

The longer he stayed with Steve, the more Bucky was convinced somebody had to have been looking for Steve. He had started guiltily Googling missing Alpha listings. It terrified him to think he could actually find one for Steve, with family, maybe a significant other who would take him away. He hadn’t found anything, not yet anyway, but Steve was so wonderful Bucky didn’t understand how no one could be looking for him. Asking hadn’t generated any answers. Steve just tilted his head, or said, “My Bucky,” and that was it. 

While Bucky felt special, he really did wish Steve could _talk_ to him. At least he was a great listener. He seemed to enjoy just hearing the sounds Bucky made, whether he understood them or not.

The day his heat arrived, Bucky knew something was different when he didn’t wake up to Steve’s cock rubbing along his ass. Confused, he sat up, swatted down the blankets, and found Steve perched at the edge of the bed. His blue eyes were dark, focused on Bucky with a new intensity.

“Mate,” Steve said, and Bucky’s entire body flushed. He felt it then, though, the slick trickling between his legs, the warmth that wasn’t due to the blankets surrounding him, the way his nipples tingled. He’d gone into heat and Steve could smell it.

Which didn’t explain why Steve was all the way over _there_.

“No more suppressants, pal,” Bucky said, his throat clicking as he swallowed. 

Like a shot, Steve was up and out of the bed, down the hall, and Bucky was utterly confused. The first pricklings of rejection stung at his eyes, but he didn’t hear the door open. Steve was moving about the kitchen, clattering and running water, but he wasn’t _here_ and Bucky didn’t understand. The first ache began deep inside, the need for a cock, and Bucky swallowed dryly again.

He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t.

“Steve?” Bucky called, wishing he didn’t sound so desperate. He must have, though, because Steve’s feet pounded on the floor as he ran back to Bucky’s room with - Bucky blinked - a huge pitcher of water and a glass.

“Steve?” Bucky said again, his voice wavering.

Steve crawled into the nest, poured Bucky a glass, and pushed it into his hands.

“Drink,” he ordered and waited for Bucky’s lips to touch the edge before stretching out to set the rest of the water aside. There were at least twelve glasses in the pitcher, a housewarming present from his mother, and that fact alone was making his hands shake. He was always dehydrated during his heats, but Steve had brought him _water_. Enough water to last the entire time.

Bucky couldn’t stop the laughter from bubbling up in his chest. In his wildest dreams, he wouldn't have imagined _laughing_ with an Alpha when his heat was starting. Why did nobody tell him it was a thing that could happen?

As his smile turned indulgent, Steve waited for Bucky to stop laughing, then tapped the glass and again demanded, “Drink.”

“Okay, okay,” Bucky mumbled, obeying the order and finish the glass. It was summarily plucked from his hand and deposited out of the way with the pitcher of water, and then it was just him, his heat, and an Alpha staring at him as that intensity returned.

Bucky swallowed.

“Mate,” Steve said again and Bucky’s spine tingled. He didn’t know if it was just the heat progressing, or a reaction to Steve’s voice, but slick poured from his hole as the ache grew within him. 

“I’m really not sure what you’re getting at,” Bucky panted and watched frustration cross Steve’s face for the first time.

“Not maintenance,” Steve said, and Bucky moaned. This time it had nothing to do with Steve, the heat was crawling up his spine, he was sweating, skin gleaming with it. His hips shifted, needing to get something, anything inside him, and he rolled over. Without thinking, but not caring once he’d done it, Bucky shoved himself onto his knees and pushed his ass at Steve. Legs spread, knees apart, he presented his hole to his Alpha and _whined_.

With a groan, Steve’s hands finally landed on his skin. They brushed his hole, over his cheeks, and Bucky trembled, the want all but scorching him inside. He felt feverish, felt as if thinking was impossible, his brain an enemy. He was a creature of senses and need now, following his instincts, and it was _freeing_.

“Alpha,” he whined, needing Steve inside him more with every passing moment. It was all he could think about besides the touch of Steve’s hands. Yet Steve wasn’t fucking him, wasn’t pushing that huge cock into his ass, and Bucky whined again. “Alpha, please.”

“Fuck,” Steve said, the first time he’d ever cursed, and the bed swayed. Then something thick and bulbous pressed to his hole, pushed inside, and filled him to bursting in one, long thrust. Bucky groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head, as the ache abruptly vanished and pleasure washed over him. It was as perfect as he’d imagined. Steve’s cock pressed against every inch of his insides, then some parts he’d hadn’t known where there. When he moved, it rubbed against all his slick glands, and his body sang with pleasure.

“Alpha, yes, Alpha,” Bucky babbled. “More, yes, please.”

Steve grunted, placed a hand in the middle of his back, and pushed into Bucky hard. So hard, the breath left him in a shout, his face scooting up the bed so it was shoved into the edge of the nest. Then Steve pulled out, got a grip on Bucky’s hips, and did it again and again and again. Bucky shouted, he whined, he pushed back onto Steve’s cock. Together they set a brutal, punishing rhythm that alighted Bucky’s nerves. His eyes closed, there was nothing but Steve’s cock, the scent of them in their nest, and the building pressure as his orgasm crept closer and closer.

Steve got there first. With a roar that left Bucky’s ears ringing, he thrust in as deep as he could, and his knot popped into place. Though he could feel Steve’s come filling him, it was a distant sensation compared with the way the knot rearranged Bucky’s body. It pushed against _everything_ , filling him, stretching him to near-bursting. It hurt, but Bucky loved it. He ground himself back against it, moaning incoherently into the mattress until his body exploded. 

The orgasm was the most intense of his life. Everything tingled, everything felt sensitive. His cock pumped his own come onto the sheets. The heat was still there, but the ache was gone. He’d gotten what he needed.

Distantly, Bucky was aware Steve was growling, pulling at his shoulders until he was upright, but still impaled on Steve’s knotted cock. He held Bucky up with an arm across his chest, but the other twisted a fistful of hair, pulling his head back. Exposing his throat. And…

“Alpha,” Bucky whispered.

“Mine?”

For once it was a question, and Bucky shivered, finally understanding what Steve had been asking before. During a heat, it didn’t take much to mate. It was laughably easy. Just a bite, just Steve’s teeth sinking into his throat, and Bucky would belong to Steve.

Well, Bucky already belonged to Steve.

“Yes,” Bucky whispered, and with that permission, Steve bit down. His teeth pierced Bucky’s skin, sharp and burning. That burn spread like a wildfire, zipping through Bucky’s body, opening up new pathways, new ways to experience the world. To experience _Steve_.

Like a wave crashing over him, Bucky could abruptly feel Steve’s lust. He could feel Steve’s love, his joy, his satisfaction. He could feel his heart, beating in time with Bucky’s. Like the corniest of love stories, he felt them become one, a connection snapping into place, digging in and growing stronger. In that single moment, he not only felt, but knew down to his very soul he would never be alone again. He was not a he; he was them and it was the single most joyous moment in his life.

“Oh,” Steve whispered. He was guiding Bucky to the bed, laying him down, lying atop him and holding him down with his weight. “Oh, Bucky… I…”

Bucky froze, the word one Steve had never uttered. 

“Steve?” Bucky asked worriedly. They were still bound together, Steve’s knot wouldn’t go down for at least half an hour (Bucky had timed it).

“It’s…” Steve sniffed him, and Bucky’s worry flowed away like water. “It’s okay. I just… It’s clear again.”

Bucky turned his head, looking up at his Alpha.

“You don’t sound like you.”

“No,” Steve agreed, then kissed Bucky’s face. Not once, but rapid fire, raining kisses on his jaw and forehead and eyes. Then he grinned, brilliant and beautiful, and said, “It’s the first time in a long time I feel like myself.” Steve’s voice was smooth, low and rich. It was sheer pleasure to listen to. “The fog is finally gone.”

“Fog?” Bucky repeated, then blinked. “You mean, you’re not...?”

“Feral?” Steve shook his head. “I don’t think so.” His hands rubbed up Bucky’s back, over his shoulders and back down again. “Thanks to you, my brave, kind mate.”

Bucky flushed, embarrassed by the praise.

“I think I’m going to have to get used to you talking.”

Steve laughed, then nuzzled Bucky’s cheek.

“You saying I can no longer be your kept Alpha?”

Rolling his eyes, Bucky wiggled, but only made Steve’s knot rub against all his glands. He gasped and went limp, moaning softly.

“I- I’m saying,” he managed when he rallied, “that I’m not used to you _talking_ and not _fucking_ me.”

Steve snorted, kissed their bond mark, and whispered, “My Bucky.” 

For the second time, Bucky flushed, but he nodded and looked up at Steve.

“Yeah. Always.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come and visit us on Tumblr
> 
> [xantissa](http://xantissa.tumblr.com)
> 
> [Cleo4u2](http://cleo4u2.tumblr.com)


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